Star Trek: Clemency 1: Shakedown
by writer14
Summary: Chronicling the adventures of the U.S.S. Clemency and her Captain; Johnathan Anderson. In 'Shakedown' Capt. Anderson is assigned to Clemency and begins to pick his crew. Whether Clemency even manages to leave dock, however, may not be up to him...
1. Prologue

Star Trek: Clemency

#1: Shakedown

Prologue

_Somewhere in Federation space, three months ago…_

_Admiral Christopher Green had been sitting down staring at the service record he had called up for a good half hour now. Lines and lines of text were displayed in front of him full of postings, reports, addendums, footnotes, references…it was quite possibly the longest service record he had ever read. This officer had been through one hell of a career so far and, if the information was accurate, he was only thirty-eight years old. He had also only achieved the rank of 'Commander'. On the one hand Green could see why, on the other hand he also wondered why someone hadn't had the good graces to promote the young man to 'Captain' and get it over with. After all, the man was prime 'Captain' material, if not just a tad rough around the edges._

_He skimmed through the document again, not really taking much of it in as there was almost nothing he hadn't already committed to memory in the past thirty-one minutes. The 'Commander' had joined Starfleet Academy at the age of sixteen, as soon as he was able to do so. He soon discovered an aptitude for just about anything technological and graduated to become an engineering officer. After a rocky start to his career he served for several years aboard the _U.S.S. Mayflower_ and found his feet, steadily moving through the ranks. After finishing his studies at Starfleet Command school he became the Executive Officer aboard the _U.S.S. Destiny_. This is the part of the story where Green felt sorry for the poor lad. _Destiny_ was destroyed in one of many foolish tactical blunders during the Dominion War and the 'Commander' had been captured. Apparently he had endured four months as a P.O.W. before engineering his own escape aboard a Cardassian shuttle and making his way back to Federation space. He had been on enforced medical leave for the past three months. The young man had wanted to return to service straight away. Whether he was tough of just stupid was something that was up for debate but Green had already decided it was a little of both._

_After he had finished reading through the service record again Green took a sip from the mug that sat beside his computer terminal. The half-finished green tea contained inside had been long cold and the Admiral pulled a face; cold tea tasted worse than that awful Klingon muck that some called 'strong coffee'. He scrolled up the service record and took another look into the man's eyes. The picture was taken just before he set off on his tour with _Destiny_. Not for the first time Green wondered how much the 'Commander' had changed. In his service record his eyes betrayed a conviction, but a hunger to see what was out there, in the farthest reaches of the galaxy. After four months in a Cardassian P.O.W. camp he wondered if that hunger was still there._

'Not that it matters.'_ Green thought to himself. He had to keep reminding himself of why he was looking over this man's service record. He didn't need an explorer. He didn't need a diplomat, a scientist or a man of so-called reason. Most of all he didn't need a typical, by-the-book Starfleet officer. All he needed was someone who could tell the difference between right and wrong. Green had one chance to put that kind of man in the Captain's chair. While the Admiral knew that he wasn't psychic, nor did he claim to be able to predict the future, he knew what was coming. It was right there in the status reports that he was being sent every day. Something horrible was about to happen within the Federation. But Admiral Christopher Green had a chance to steer the course of events by picking the right man out of the crowd and putting him in the right place. He just hoped that it wasn't already too late._

_Green looked into the young man's eyes once more. The 'Commander' had already been through hell and come back fighting. He had already seen what no-one in Starfleet should see and he had already been through more than his fair share. But Green took those feelings and stored them in a deep, dark hole at the back of his mind. He knew what he had to do, what he needed to do. And it all started by putting this man in the right place. He just hoped, not for the last time, that he knew what he was doing._

_He read the last line of the service record. The 'Commander' was currently staying at Starfleet Medical in San Fransisco, Earth. He tapped the intercom that was wired to his receptionist's desk outside. "_Lieutenant, I need a direct line to Starfleet Medical._"_

"Yes sir._" Came the detached reply through the speaker built into Green's desk. There was only a pause for a moment or two before his secretary spoke again. "_I have Starfleet Medical for you, sir._"_

_Admiral Green took another sip from his stone cold green tea as he hoped that he knew what he was doing._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_Starbase 143 (Gamma fleet HQ)_

_Present Day_

The administrators and pen pushers of Starbase 143 had been kind enough to grant Captain Jonathan Anderson with his very own office for the last three months. It was at that time he had received the most startling of news. He had been promoted and was being given command of his own ship. Not just any ship either; the first _Galaxy-class_ starship to roll off the production line since the war. The United Starship _Clemency_, registry N.C.C.-05589; she had been finished over at Utopia Planitia a little over two months ago and was now moored at 143 awaiting her launch date.

That date was today.

Captain Anderson had finished picking through the hundreds of applicants for the various positions on his crew, he had attended all the meetings, sent out all the various messages and now his ship and his crew were ready to charge head first into the vast unknown that was space. Of course, there was the little matter of the shakedown cruise first. And then he would have to actually await specific orders. After all that was done, then they would be ready to charge. Or meander depending on the wishes of Starfleet Command. Just as he was packing the last of his things up the door chime sounded. "Come in."

The door swung open on his command and on the other side Admiral Christopher Green was standing. Anderson stood up and quickly snapped to attention as best he could. This caused a few of his PADD's to scatter across the room, however it was generally considered good form to stand to attention when an officer of superior rank entered your office, especially when the officer in question just happened to be your boss. Although Anderson could have sworn he saw the faintest glimmer of humour stretch across Admiral Green's features.

"There's no need for token shows of respect, Captain." Green said, gesturing for Anderson to take a seat. He didn't, but he did relax a little.

"What can I do for your sir?" Anderson asked warily. The last time Admiral Green had entered his office it was to contest some of his crew selections, namely in the position of First Officer and Security Chief. This led to a rather lively discussion where Green had conceded that he could choose one or the other, but not both. It had puzzled Anderson as to why the Admiral wanted to assign anyone to his ship in the first place. After all it was customary for a captain to hand pick his senior staff. _Clemency_ was, however, intended to be the new flagship for Admiral Green's Gamma Fleet. So perhaps the Admiral just wanted some say in personnel for his new flagship. Or perhaps he had promised an old friend the position. That was, after all, how Anderson ended up with his current First Officer.

"Sit down, Captain." Green offered, taking a seat in front of the desk. Anderson took a seat. "I'm just here to give you my regards and inform you of a quick mission Starfleet would like you to carry out."

Anderson looked puzzled. It was a look that Admiral Green was perhaps becoming accustomed too. "Mission, sir? What about the shakedown?"

"The shakedown is still going ahead, I'm just attaching a mission for you to fulfil while the shakedown is ongoing." Green replied. "This kind of thing usually happens; don't you remember any of your previous shakedowns?"

"Actually I spent the entire time in engineering making sure everything worked, sir." Anderson deadpanned. This made Admiral Green chuckle. For some reason Anderson didn't like it when the Admiral chuckled. The Admiral was always just a little bit over friendly towards him and when he chuckled, which he often did, it seemed just a little bit forced. Almost like Admiral Green was trying to get Anderson to like him.

"Well I've left the info with your XO but seeing as you're still here, I thought I'd give you a heads-up." Green said. "I assume you're familiar with research station _Hawking-8_?"

Anderson nodded slowly. He didn't bother replying verbally. One thing that Captain Anderson had become accustomed to during his career was that Admiral's generally didn't ask questions that they didn't already have the answers for.

"You'll be making a supply drop there." The Admiral continued. "It's nothing major, just some power cells, tricorders and various other pieces of equipment they requested from Starfleet Command about six months ago and are getting now. I assume you don't have a problem with that?"

"With the mission or with the fact that it takes Command six months to put together an order, sir?" Anderson deadpanned. That was another thing that Anderson generally found; going along with jokes that Admiral's made was a good way to ingratiate yourself to them. Admiral Green laughed in response. Afterwards Anderson finished; "No sir, I don't have a problem."

With that the general conversation was over and Admiral Green was standing. "Best finish packing then Captain. I've scheduled your departure for just under an hour from now."

The doors opened to let Green pass and Anderson waited, making sure that Green was gone, and then frantically began to try and cram the remainder of his belongings into his case.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Starbase 143_

_February 19, 2375_

Captain Anderson was struggling to make his way through the corridors of the Starbase. Between the hefty amount of luggage he was carrying (some Ensign hadn't had his belongings transferred to his new command), the comings and goings of what seemed to him like every member of Starfleet and the damn narrow corridors it Anderson was wondering if he was going to make it to the turbolift without killing someone. He was weaving in and out of various passers by all the while apologising for almost running them down with his oversized bags.

He just managed to dodge a fast moving Bolian engineer when he walked straight into what he assumed was a brick wall. Anderson would probably have managed to keep his balance were it not for the weight of his bags and, as a result, was knocked flat out on his back by the impact. When he looked up he saw that he hadn't walked into a wall of any kind; there was a rugged looking man standing in his path. According to the pips on his neck he held the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Of course Anderson recognised him straight away.

"Lieutenant Commander Robinson." He said in a slightly annoyed tone of voice as he attempted to clamber to his feet. Robinson made no effort to help him up. Instead he was looking around the corridor, almost as if he was 'securing the area'. "Don't worry yourself I don't need any help."

Robinson didn't respond. He didn't even look like he was paying any attention to Anderson. After a few more seconds of looking around Robinson seemed to be almost satisfied with his surroundings and turned to face the Captain. "That Bolian almost ran you down."

"Yeah, well, he had a little help in that department." Anderson muttered, miffed. To this Robinson was back on his guard.

"He did? Who?" Robinson was scanning every face in the vicinity, determined to find out who the Bolian was working for. Anderson felt both amused and annoyed at the same time.

"At ease Lieutenant Commander." Anderson ordered. Although Robinson appeared to ease up slightly, the word slightly being an understatement in this case, Anderson still got the feeling that he was conducting his surveillance with his peripheral vision. "You must be the most paranoid security chief I've ever met."

"Then you obviously haven't met many security chiefs, sir." Robinsons replied in a distracted manner. "Were you heading to the runabout bay?

"As a matter of fact I was."He He Anderson nodded; glad that they were changing the subject from the mutinous Bolian engineer. It was customary for the Captain, while at base, to be transferred to his ship via runabout before departure. Anderson liked that particular Starfleet custom. He hefted his bags up onto his shoulders and prepared himself for another haphazard trip down the corridors. Robinson, however, took the lead as they both set off for the nearest turbolift. Much to the chagrin of the Captain it seemed that everyone was going out of the way to avoid the security chief. A friend of Anderson's once told him that if he walked down a corridor staring intently ahead then he wouldn't have to weave in and out of people. People would get the hell out of his way. Anderson wasn't afraid to admit he had never really perfected any kind of 'intent' staring technique.

They managed to get to the turbolift and, as luck would have it, it was completely empty. Both officers stepped in, Anderson with a little more difficulty due to the size of his bags. As the Captain ordered the turbolift to head to the runabout bay he noticed that Robinson was, once again, looking distracted. He appeared to be checking out the lift itself. This caused the same mixed amused/annoyed feeling in Anderson. "You never let up, do you Lieutenant Commander?"

"Expect everything and nothing surprises you." Robinson replied in what was becoming his trademark distracted tone. Anderson was beginning to believe that, even though he sounded distracted, Robinson was anything but. They went the rest of the way in silence and soon arrived at the runabout bay. Waiting for them there were a couple more _Clemency_ crewmembers who were 'catching a ride', as the saying went, with the Captain and security chief. Anderson recognised their faces but not their names. He made a note of finding that out.

Once his bags were loaded aboard they were soon on their way. The two crewman and the pilot, who was also assigned to _Clemency_, were making small talk at the front of the runabout and Lieutenant Commander Robinson was staring intently at a console. Anderson, meanwhile, was staring directly ahead. The sheer size of his new ship was enough to take his breath away. But he also regarded her as a thing of beauty. He could also see straight into the ships own runabout bay and noticed something odd.

"Is that a crewman?" He asked quizzically. Everyone looked up to see what Anderson was talking about. There was definitely a crewman standing on the edge of the runabout bay. He appeared to waving his arms frantically. After a few seconds, once he realised that the runabout wasn't stopping, the most amazing thing happened; the crewman jumped at the runabout. Considering there was no gravity in the space between ship and shuttle he still managed to jump quite a distance. Within seconds he had, much to the shock of everyone present (except Robinson), hit the windscreen. He was still waving his arms about frantically.

"Clearly he's trying to tell us something about the runabout bay." Robinson piped up, stating the obvious as the crewman was indeed pointing at the runabout bay and waving his arms. Then, in an instant, it clicked for Anderson.

"Isn't the way he's waving his arms galactic sign language for bomb?" Anderson queried. Slowly, with looks ranging from fear to bewilderment, everyone looked at each other. For a split second Anderson didn't quite know what to do. It was after an intervening few seconds that he spoke up.

"Would someone be so kind as to stop the runabout and let that poor lad inside?"


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_U.S.S. Clemency, N.C.C.-05589_

_Transporter Room 3_

It was one of those days for Transporter Chief Lydon down in the transporter room. His was the only one that was operational so, naturally, everyone who was embarking from the Starbase wanted to do so via transporter. Frankly he wondered whether routing three-hundred people (so far) today through one transporter might not overload its systems, given that it was used to beaming an away team up and down every couple of weeks. That was when he received the call from the bridge.

"_Transporter room this is the bridge."_ Came the stoic voice of Lieutenant Rovek, the Vulcan ships operations officer. Lydon opened a comm channel.

"This is the transporter room, go ahead." He replied in a slightly bored manner.

"_Please beam aboard the five life signs aboard a runabout directly to the aft." _Rovek said. Lydon, at first, thought that it was some kind of sick joke. Then he remembered that Vulcan's, as a rule, don't play jokes. In fact they had a sense of humour deficiency.

"Understood." He replied and locked onto the five life signs that he was reading to the aft of the ship. Then he began to mutter to himself as he went through the process of beaming them aboard. "This level of laziness in the twenty-fourth century is getting absurd. 'Oh yeah, there's five guys in a runabout but they've decided they can't be bothered flying the last few hundred yards to the runabout bay. Will you beam them in?' One of these days I swear…"

He continued muttering as the patterns began emerging on the transporter pad but stopped abruptly as he realised that one of the people who had just beamed in looked a hell of a lot like the captain. In fact it was the captain. One of the other four crewmen he was with looked like he had just seen a small portion of hell. For starters he was shivering.

"Could somebody get this crewman a blanket?" Asked the captain and, when he took another look at him, added; "And a stiff drink?"

_U.S.S. Clemency, N.C.C.-05589_

_Runabout Bay_

It was an odd sight in the runabout bay. There were no less than four senior officers standing in a circle around the landing pad staring at it in bewilderment. As well as Captain Anderson and Lieutenant Commander Robinson there was the ship's first officer; Commander Darren Miller, and chief engineer Lieutenant Velora. There were also four security officers, trained in bomb disposal, standing around too. One of them, Lieutenant Jennifer Hudson, was scanning the landing pad with a tricorder.

"I have a couple of questions." Said the captain, breaking what can only be described as an extremely uncomfortable silence.

"Yes sir." Robinson replied.

"The most pressing of which would be how the _hell _was someone able to smuggle and install a bomb onto my ship?"

No-one had an answer for that. Hudson stooped down while using her tricorder when it began to beep furiously. The senior officers, when they heard this, instinctively took an alarmed step back. All of them except Robinson that was. Hudson closed her tricorder, stood upright and turned to face the security chief.

"Well, the bomb is most definitely armed sir." She started. "It appears to be pressure sensitive, _extremely_ pressure sensitive. It wouldn't take a runabout landing here to set it off. Even an unlucky crewman stepping on the pressure pad would have set it off. We think…"

"Can you remove it, lieutenant?" Anderson asked, beginning to grow impatient. Hudson turned her attention towards her captain and, just for a split second, he thought he could see annoyance in her eyes. Of course she was professional enough to mask any annoyance towards her CO.

"As I was just about to say, sir." She added the last word as more of an afterthought. "We think we can remove it safely."

"Don't think lieutenant, know." He responded. Hudson turned to face the security squad that were standing nearby the area of the bomb, looking thoughtful. In the mean time Anderson turned to address his senior officers. He started with his security chief and his chief engineer. Lieutenant Velora was a Coridanite, an alien species most distinctive for their greying, almost clay-like skin. "Chief, Lieutenant I want a full sweep of the ship; make sure there are no more bombs anywhere. Also I want everyone who isn't looking for bombs confined to wherever they are right now."

Both men nodded and exited the runabout bay in an orderly fashion. That was when Anderson turned to his old friend and new first officer, Miller. "Good to see you again, Darren."

Commander Miller nodded. "You too John."

And then that was that. Both men had known each other for more than twenty years and they were probably closer than brothers. It was, however, no time for swapping stories of new adventures. They were both all business.

"Darren, I need you to get up to the bridge and contact Admiral Green." Anderson began. "He probably already knows about the situation. Tell him we've got everything under control and he needn't worry about us blowing a big, _Clemency_-shaped hole in his space station. I want you to liaise with him and try and find out who would and, more importantly, who could pull something like this off."

Miller only nodded in response and set off in much the same direction as the other officers. Anderson turned around and saw Lieutenant Hudson and the security team had begun dismantling the floor surrounding the bomb.

"Lieutenant?" Anderson asked, as politely as he could.

"Yes sir." She replied without looking back at him.

"Is it safe for you to be doing that?"

She didn't reply, which Anderson thought was probably for the best.


End file.
